LOVE101 One Shot 1
by Pirka
Summary: A talk with my old English teacher made me write this. He said that my old webcomic, LOVE*101, which is based in the universe of the novel 1984, is essentially the devil's incarnate. I set out to write something that would make the him sympathize.


LOVE*101 - One Shot No. 1

Emily 'Pirka' Bricker

Based on George Orwell's _1984_. Original characters and concepts are used, however.

--

The second the information reached her ears, her brain began to rack with convulsions of the worst kind. The thought that somehow, despite her entire life's efforts, her purpose in the world meant nothing. Tetra ran from the tiny cubicle, pushed open the door and dove blindly into a torrent of light that gave her no warmth, stinging tears welling in her closed eyes. She collapsed onto her knees in front of the Ministry of Love, laying her head against the pavement. I want to die, she thought. Her stuffed rabbit lay limply in the crook of her elbow.

A hand grabbed Tetra by the shoulder, stopping her from falling completely forward. She turned around, her eyes meeting the concerned, glazed ones of Marissa Parsons, her most trusted comrade.  
"T-t-Tetra...no..." Her strong Airstrip accent breathed even more into her speech. "...you're doubleplusimportant to us all, Tetra...you've surpassed all expectations..."  
Tetra jerked her head away. "Everything's over, Parsons." Her tone was flat and hopeless.  
"You have nothing to be ashamed of! I have never met a person with such a pure, true love for The Party."  
"None of that matters anymore. The fact that I even exist means I'm..." Tetra paused, gagging on her words.  
"You're not, Tetra. You're the perfect child."  
"Perfect child?!" Tetra rose up, her hopelessness giving way to hostility. "I was supposed to be dead from the moment I was even concieved!"  
Marissa's mind strained to find the correct words to say, her vocabulary pulling things that she had never thought of saying before out of its vaults.  
"That was your father's fault, not yours, Tetra! You've grown beyond that! You didn't decide...to...exist..." She didn't know how to put it into words.  
There were two reasons for this.  
The first was that Marissa had never seen Tetra at such low confidence, but the second was much more personal. The spark in her green eyes faded as her mind went back.

A seven-year-old Marissa Parsons, violet hair tied up in ribbons, kneeled outside her father's bedroom door, sure she had heard something from inside. She placed her newest Spy trinket against the door with a tiny click and placed her ear on its side. She heard murmuring, but as the words became clear, she began to feel something she could not understand.  
The second the information reached her ears, her brain began to rack with convulsions of the worst kind. The thought that somehow, despite her entire life's efforts, her purpose in the world meant nothing.  
Her tiny listening-trinket fell onto the floor with a clatter. It all seemed to happen in slow motion.  
The next day, she relayed what she had heard. She had had no remorse for her father's death, but her heart lay heavy with what had truly died that day - her father's trust. Marissa Parsons shed the last bit of her cocoon of innocence. She now trusted no one.

"Tetra, I don't know what to say to you. If you want to destroy yourself, I don't have the authority to stop you. Nobody does."  
Tetra turned her head towards Marissa solemnly. She breathed heavily, as if gathering energy. After a moment of silence, she spoke.  
"You're a really good kid, Marissa Parsons. You're a true hero, but I have to go now. I said I'd give anything for Big Brother, and I'm not going to break that promise. Not on my life, Parsons."  
She rose, her bright pink hair seeming dim and lifeless. She clutched BeBe in her arms tightly, reviewing her identity in her mind.  
_Miss Tetra Volt, the youngest agent the Thought Police has ever known. Barely ten, yet with the determination of any adult twice over. Hair color, pink. Thinkwarn, zero percent. The Party's perfect child..._  
Everything was tarnished now. The Tetra Volt that the Minitrue had on file was no longer in her mind.  
Her head pounded as she told herself, yet again, her reason for wishing herself into nonexistance. O' Brien had discovered it days ago, but it had racked his brain so much that he could not bring himself to tell until moments ago.

His eyes behind his spectacles were cold, as always, but they held an odd, milky aire of doubt in them. As soon as Tetra had seen him, she knew that something was very, very wrong.  
"Miss Volt, we have recovered new information regarding your father."  
"The Thinkpol found his body?"  
"No." A solemn pause, before...a question. "Miss Volt, do you know anything of your mother?"  
Tetra realized that she did not. Her father, Lance Volt, was the head of her home city's branch of the Miniluv, but she knew nothing of her other parent.  
"I don't know, Mr. O' Brien."  
"We regret to inform you, Miss Tetra Volt, but this is information you must know. We have discovered that you were concieved without registration...that is, you are an illegally concieved child. You were therefore not born of Oceania, meaning that from birth you were designated as..."

Tetra didn't need to hear any more before she burst from the room, trying to escape something she never could.

As Tetra set off on her own, Elite Junior Spy Marissa Parsons tightened her neckerchief and gave a strong, heartfelt salute.


End file.
